


Are Dance Moms worse than Isle Moms?

by KittyKarnstein96



Series: The not-so-rotten four, being soft because it's what we deserve [4]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: ...and also because it's Jal and they swear a lot, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Humor, Gen, I don't know why I wrote this but it made me chuckle, Multi, T is for trash, The plot is pretty much Mal and Jay snarking at one another and watching trash, use of Dance Moms as a plot device
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28274523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyKarnstein96/pseuds/KittyKarnstein96
Summary: The first stage in any binge-watching session is denial, even if you're making popcorn and skipping classes to watch the latest episode as it airs. Mal insists it's Jay's fault for dragging her into this hell show, but Jay knows she secretly or not-so-secretly loves it just as much as he does. Though they'll never admit it out loud. Evie and Carlos don't need tv shows when they have Mal and Jay giving them real time comedic gold over a trash show.OR the fic where Jal hatelovewatching Dance Moms together
Relationships: Evie & Jay & Mal & Carlos de Vil, Evie/Mal (Disney), Jay & Mal (Disney), Jay/Carlos de Vil, Minor or Background Relationship(s), can be read as platonic or romantic - Relationship
Series: The not-so-rotten four, being soft because it's what we deserve [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958242
Kudos: 38





	Are Dance Moms worse than Isle Moms?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Telli1206 for encouraging me to write this craziness and Sparrow for beta'ing this and making it that much better. Have this short fluffy-crack (but totally canon) fic as a gift for the holidays. Let me know if you like it 🥰

_ Mal knew who to blame _ — _ Jay and his stupidly long arms. If he hadn't stolen the remote from her, they could be watching something else…  _ _ anything _ _ else... _

Mal, Jay, Evie, and Carlos had stumbled back to the boy's dorm, feet and minds aching after a long day. Evie and Carlos had curled up on his bed, attempting to chip away at some of their mountain of homework. Jay, meanwhile, had flopped onto the couch with Mal, who’d nudged and kicked at him until he made room for her. He'd then turned the TV on, only for Mal to snatch the remote before he could decide on a channel.

That’s how the battle had begun, with their light snarling quickly morphing into loud screeches as they began to wrestle, skin thumping against skin and the couch and the floor and really  _ anything  _ around them.

At that point, Evie had gone to pluck the remote from Mal’s grasp, walking away with it to leave the two to their fate—watching whatever she’d left on screen (she hadn’t noticed).

Mal and Jay had groaned in sync, remembering the dreaded show from the glimpses of it they’d caught on the Isle: Dance Moms—one of the few shows that played on the trash selection of channels they’d grown up with.

Ultimately, Mal and Jay, too stubborn to simply leave the room, had found themselves seated on the couch as the program began, their screeching having faded into quiet grumbling as the drama unfolded on-screen.

An episode into the show, Jay had finally stopped whining, but he was sitting with his arms crossed, glaring sullenly at the screen. The dismay was evident from his expression, and equally from Mal, who kept scowling at him periodically—

“This is all your fault,” she mutters, giving Jay’s shoulder a rough shove. “I don’t want to watch this garbage!”

Shuffling on the couch, Jay rubs his arm at the spot Mal shoved, grumbling, “Why don’t you just leave, then?!” 

“Why don’t  _ you _ leave?!” she challenges, gaze flashing green with annoyance.

Evie rolls her eyes from where she sits on the bed, pointedly turning the volume up and smirking at the pained groans that elicits from Mal and Jay. Beside her, Carlos sniggers, shaking his head and looking at her with a fond smile. His gaze drifts briefly to the couch, then back to Evie, a devilish smirk creeping at the corner of his lips. 

“How many episodes do ya think they’ll pretend not to watch?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

Evie giggles, eyes sparkling with mirth as she replies, “At least another five.” She glances at the couch. “It’s only a matter of time before Mal starts shouting at the screen...” 

Carlos grins and nods, then takes on a pensive expression. “Care to put some money on that...?” 

Evie smirks and flashes Carlos a challenging stare. “Always,” she replies. “I could use some more materials.” 

**\--**

A few days later, with Evie and Carlos having gone to town—both eager to buy new materials for their respective projects—Mal locks the door and draws the curtains before racing back to the sofa, where Jay’s already waiting.

He grabs their bowl of freshly popped popcorn and hits play on the remote, sinking back against the sofa as Mal drapes herself across him.

It’s not long before the episode begins to heat up, leaving Mal and Jay on the edge of their seats.

"I could totally see E.Q. wearing a hat like Jill's,” Jay remarks through a chuckle, shuddering involuntarily as the mental picture of Evie’s mother in an obnoxious cowboy hat fills his mind.

Mal snorts and smacks his arm, though she’s secretly filing the idea away for some late night sketching. She’s almost certain there’s a special place in hell reserved for Abby Lee Miller. 

Groaning at the screen, she comments: “I think I’d rather eat one of her poison apples then suffer through more of this garbage." She flicks a piece of popcorn at the TV, uncaring as it bounces off and falls to the carpet.

"Wanna turn it off?" Jay flashes her a challenging smirk as he leans into her, almost nose to nose. "All you have to do is say the magic word,” he drawls, smirk widening.

"Shut the fuck up," Mal growls, shoving a handful of popcorn into Jay's mouth. 

Jay just nips at her fingers, then folds his arms across his chest as he turns back to the screen. 

"Who thought making this show was a good idea?” he asks after a while, shaking his head despite that he’s unable to tear his eyes away from the unfolding action.

Suddenly, Mal snaps her fingers, inspired by the show. “I’m drawing a pyramid of AKs.”

She’s reaching for her sketchbook before Jay can stop her (not that he planned to). Instead, he nods eagerly, hitting pause as Mal starts doodling. 

“Put Chad at the bottom,” he suggests, leaning over Mal’s shoulder to examine her work. 

Mal hums and practically spits out the names: “Right next to Audrey and Doug.” 

They go back and forth, debating over potential ‘top of the pyramid’ candidates before ultimately deciding on Lonnie, with Jane and Ben being positioned in the second row.

Finished with her work, Mal tears out the page and hands it to Jay with a satisfied smile. 

“I’m framing this,” Jay states matter-of-factly, almost unable to look away from Mal’s beautiful handiwork. 

**\---**

“You have terrible taste!” Mal throws her hands up in exasperation. 

“I must,” Jay retorts. “I like you, don’t I?!” He sticks his tongue out at her. 

Carlos is almost certain people are beginning to stare. He shrinks back into his seat and silently wills Evie to get there fast. The lunch room chatter around them fades away, Mal and Jay’s voices getting louder and more passionate as they continue their snarking. Carlos sighs, trying and failing to block them out, his lunch forgotten as his gaze flits between the pair. 

“For the last time—Where Have All the Children Gone is the most iconic group number and that’s that.” Mal punctuates each word with a jab of her French fry in Jay’s direction.

Jay shakes his head, swiping a handful of Mal’s fries in defiance. “And you’re still wrong!” he exclaims. “Because everyone knows The Last Text is the best dance.” 

Mal scoffs and moves her plate further from Jay’s reach. “We are not having this argument again,” she huffs. “Your opinion is dumb.”

“ _ You’re _ dumb,” Jay grumbles with a shake of his head.

Carlos rolls his eyes, a slow smile spreading across his face as he looks between the two.

Mal leans forward, turning her attention to Carlos. “What’re you smirking at?” she demands

“I just think it’s hilarious,” Carlos begins, drawing his words out into a playful lilt, “how invested in this show you both are. Anyone would think you  _ like  _ watching Dance Moms.” 

“WHAT?! NO, WE DON’T.” Jay squawks loud enough that several heads turn in their direction; almost at the same time, Mal growls out a bitter, “You don’t know what you’re talking about, De Vil.” 

Carlos laughs, soft and melodious and all-too-smug. He holds his hands up in a gesture of surrender as he replies, “No need to get your wings in a knot.” 

Mal narrows her eyes at him and gestures to Jay. “It was Jay’s stupid idea to watch it.” 

Jay gasps dramatically, levelling Mal with a glare. “It was not!”

“Was too!” Mal retorts, leaning into Jay’s face.

“Was not!” Jay snaps, louder still, his nose now pressed against Mal’s. 

Carlos groans and slumps his head against the table.  _ Maybe he’d just have lunch in the dorm room tomorrow. _

**\---**

“Are they...” Evie shifts closer to Carlos, her tone filled with mirth. “Are they crying?”

Carlos burrows his head against Evie’s shoulder in a poor attempt to conceal his laughter. 

Mal and Jay are sitting huddled on the sofa in the boys’ dorm room, with Evie and Carlos curled up together on Carlos’s bed. The familiar sound of Dance Moms blares in the background, as it so often does.

It’s been weeks—weeks of Carlos and Evie betting on how many more episodes their loveable idiots can consume, and Carlos can’t even be mad that he’s lost money because watching Mal and Jay is far too amusing, especially with Evie repeatedly confiscating their snacks due to Jay’s attempts to hurl entire boxes of chocolate at the screen.

Mal and Jay’s voices carry across the room and Carlos has to bite his lip to stop his laugh from bubbling over.

“This isn’t right,” Jay sighs with a sullen expression. “They can’t get rid of the best Dance Mom.”

Mal’s tone is full of outrage as she chimes in: “Why can’t this be a vote them off scenario? They keep getting rid of all the good moms.”

Jay nods his head empathetically, “I just can’t believe we’re never going to see Christie and Kelly together again. This is the worst.” 

“I can’t believe you got me invested in this shit.” Mal smacks Jay’s shoulder. 

Jay wiggles his eyebrows and leans closer. “Just wait until you see my Halloween costume.” 

Mal’s eyes light up, all traces of sadness instantly gone, replaced by a child-like glee that radiates off of her in waves. “Show me!” she demands.

Grinning, Jay walks to the closet, grabbing what he needs and marching into the bathroom with purpose. Soon enough, he’s marching back out in a costume so hideous, it would scare Maleficent, and Carlos can’t keep from falling off the bed in laughter.

Jay’s costume consists of black leggings and a bright neon hoodie with a large plastic rhinestone necklace and a poofed up wig. He poses proudly in the outfit—in all its terrible glory.

Evie gapes at him, mouth opening and closing as she struggles to come up with a response. Carlos is still giggling, tears falling from his eyes as he clutches at his sides.

“We’re never watching this show again,” Mal declares with a shudder, though the twitch of her lips conveys her true thoughts. 

“Aww, c’mon,” Jay whines. “I’m Jay Lee Miller!”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays, whether you're celebrating or not I hope you have chance to rest and relax. I know the holidays aren't happy times for everyone, but hopefully this can make you smile at least. I think we all need some fluffy fic to perk us up. Lots of love your anxious neighbourhood Spidey xoxo


End file.
